


High Above The Ground

by storm_dog_pirate



Category: Nikolai Series - Leigh Bardugo, The Grisha Trilogy - Leigh Bardugo
Genre: Aftermath, F/M, Post-War, companion fic of Aftermath
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-13
Updated: 2020-01-13
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:34:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22240396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/storm_dog_pirate/pseuds/storm_dog_pirate
Summary: A vision of the future and a little chat with a certain Saint happens, and it will be a step towards making the vision into a reality.
Relationships: Nikolai Lantsov/Zoya Nazyalensky
Comments: 1
Kudos: 30





	High Above The Ground

Nikolai opened his eyes.

The first thing he noticed was the lush brown surface of the ceiling above him, sending his mind to complete confusion. Wasn’t he supposed to be out in the battlefield?

He bolted up to a sitting position and looked around. The place was familiar, and it took him a good whole minute to recognize that it was his chambers back in the Grand Palace. And he had just woken up on his own bed in his white undershirt and loose pants.

Nikolai blinked repeatedly, his mind going haywire as he swung his legs on the edge of the bed. The memories of the battle at Os Alta was a blur in his mind, but he was definitely sure that he was there. He remembered facing the fully emerged the Darkling once again, remembered him fading as he was struck with a deathblow. Aside from that, Nikolai also remembered the white-hot pain in his chest as the Darkling disappeared and then—

_Nothing._

A wave of panic hit him.

Had he perished?

Looking around and feeling the rumpled sheets under his palms told him otherwise. It all felt too real for him to be dead, and it didn’t make sense for him to be here if he were. But the real question was: what was he doing here? How did he get here?

Nikolai felt the side of his head throb from the thoughts, and he raised his hand to wipe at his face. It was then he felt something cold on his skin when he brought his palm down to his face. The light coming from his window caught the glint of metal on his finger, and he recoiled as he turned the back of his hand.

On the fourth finger of his left hand was a gold wedding ring.

He was left gaping at the band, racking his mind of answers. As far as he remembered, his wedding to Ehri hadn’t pushed through when an urgent news from one of the spies that the Fjerdans had already started conquering the nearby towns—which Nikolai had also used as an excuse to cancel the event.

But seeing the ring on his finger gleam against the sunlight, doubts began to flood his mind.

Were his memories failing him that he couldn’t remember or decipher what had really happened and what was his imagination?

The sound of a door abruptly opening jerked Nikolai out of his thoughts, and he raised his head up just in time to see someone emerge from the bathroom and stomped towards the dresser on the side.

Someone he had always loved to see in her blue _kefta._

“Lantsov, I woke you up half an hour ago and you’re still on the bed?” Zoya gave him a pointed look through the mirror in front of her.

If looks could murder, Nikolai was sure he’d already be dead, and he was looking back at her with a dumbfounded expression. He watched her put an earring on one ear before she was groaning and turning away from the mirror to turn to the closet. She grabbed a towel from the hanger and threw it at Nikolai just as he was standing up from the bed.

He caught it, though barely, and Zoya went back to the dresser to continue putting her earrings on.

“We have a long day ahead of us, so be a dear and move your ass, will you?”

Nikolai walked towards her slowly, not sure if he was seeing it right. Since when did she have her accessories in _his_ dresser? There were a million questions in his head, but he didn’t know where to start. “Zoya,” he said instead, reaching a hand to her arm.

Zoya finished putting on the earring and turned to him with a questioning look, but there was something else. Something more….calm and natural. Like she wasn’t looking at him with her guard up just as she always did when they were this _close_.

He opened his mouth to speak, but words seemed to fail him and he was left speechless. He frowned.

What _was_ happening?

Her gaze softened. “What is it?” Zoya asked, her tone surprisingly lacking its usual edge. Nikolai felt her other hand come up to his that was holding her arm. “You had that expression since earlier.”

“Well, I—” He stopped when he looked down to their joined hands and had to narrow his eyes to make sure that he wasn’t just seeing things.

He indeed wasn’t.

Because there, on Zoya’s ring finger, was the same gold band that was on his.

Nikolai raised his eyes to meet hers, bringing their hands between them. He inclined his head to the side, a look of bewilderment evident on his face. “We’re—we’re _married_?”

There was silence, and Nikolai didn’t know what to make of it. Zoya was staring at him incredulously. Then she shook her head with a light laugh, turning back to the mirror to check on her outfit.

“Saints, you’re impossible,” she said with a sigh. But her expression softened and a small smile curled at her lips when she turned to him. “When I married you, I knew that I wouldn’t just be marrying a king, but an idiot as well. A huge one, that is.” She paused and winced, though amusement was obvious in her eyes. “I just didn’t realize you could be this _huge_ idiot to ask that question after two years of marriage.”

Nikolai almost sputtered at that. _Two years?_

By that time, he was sure that he was dead. Because this was too good to be a reality.

“But for what it’s worth, I still love you though,” Zoya added, and Nikolai felt his breath catch at her confession, his hand tightening around hers involuntarily. Her free hand reached over the towel in his hands and slung it over his shoulder. “Now go take that bath. You’re already running late to your first meeting of the day, and I still have to go at the Little Palace.” She stood on her toes and pressed a chaste kiss on his mouth, the easiness of the act surprising him, and she pulled away all too quickly much to his disappointment. “I’ll see you at dinner.” She was off, but not after sending him another stern glance and a raised finger. “Time is running.” Then the door closed and she disappeared from his view.

Nikolai was left to stare at the door where Zoya had just gotten out to, his heart heavy despite what had just happened.

“Like what you see?”

A voice boomed somewhere behind him, and it made Nikolai whirl around in surprise. At the table by the balcony was a man sitting comfortably, a smug smile on his lips.

“You think too loud, young king,” he added, standing up from his seat and walking towards the blond. “Don’t worry, you’ll get here.”

Nikolai eyed the man warily. “Juris,” he greeted, his stance snapping alert.

The first time he had seen of the saint, both he and Zoya almost got burnt to crisp by his blue flames. It wouldn’t hurt to keep his defenses up, even at this unknown world he was currently in.

“Where are we?” he asked, spreading an arm around.

Juris chuckled. “That depends on you.”

The king raised an eyebrow at that. He wasn’t in a mood for riddles. “Jur—” Pain erupted from his chest that caused him to stop abruptly, and it was enough to knock the breath out of him. He winced, gripping on the edge of the dresser beside him, a hand on his chest. “What was that?”

“At least you’re still tied to your body.” The saint shrugged, crossing his arms. “I guess you’re not done down there yet. Consider this as something to look forward to.”

Nikolai gaped, still not understanding one bit of everything that was happening. He shook his head. “What? What does that even mean?”

Juris eyed him incredulously. “You know, for a king, you really are dense.”

“Wow, thanks,” Nikolai deadpanned, a frown now evident on his face.

“This is _your_ future, Lantsov. Could be, to be more specific. And that would all depend on you if you want it to be.”

He did.

Oh, how he desperately did.

He knew he would fight another thousand lifetimes if this was what he could have in the end; to let the country that he had fought tooth and nail for have the queen that would do the same deed over and over again, and to finally be with the one that he was sure he wanted to be with, who was his equal in every single way he knew.

And the one that he loved dearly.

Another pain hit him, and Nikolai staggered back to the dresser, rattling the contents above the wooden surface. He winced visibly.

“Well, at least someone’s dead set on getting you back.”

Nikolai could only struggle to breathe as he stared at the saint in front of him.

“Now let me ask you, young king,” Juris said, “is this what you truly hoped for?”

Nikolai was done hiding and denying it, so without a single hesitation, he replied, “ _Yes._ ”

A soft smile appeared on Juris’ lips, and for the first time, the dark aura surrounding the saint disappeared, baring the person behind that once defeated the dragon. “Then have it, Nikolai Lantsov, the King of Ravka, and may you live for as long as you are able.” He raised a hand, fingers poised as if to snap, but not after giving a polite bow as a sign of respect. “Your Highness.”

Then the saint snapped his fingers, and it echoed throughout the surroundings, the colors blurring into a mix as something thrust Nikolai back to the land of the living.

The memories of the other world slowly faded away from his mind as he returned to consciousness, the sound of muffled sobs being the first one he heard as he drifted awake.

And when he finally opened his eyes and met with the blue ones that always held the fire that kept him going, Nikolai knew he was where he wanted to be.

**Author's Note:**

> Companion fic of Aftermath. Cheers! :>


End file.
